


Dark Side of the Moon

by ShyTortise



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyTortise/pseuds/ShyTortise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war has been going on for years, and will likely continue until the universe has ground itself to dust. Of course, when you know your enemy as well as they know each other the most vicious battles are 'fought' off the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I picked a name for Manny from the Sumerian language, considering some sources cite it as the oldest written language we have, and I'm certain Pitch would rather swallow broken glass than agree with the Guardians on anything. Especially after the movie events. Here is the url for the wiki article I used. 
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sin_%28mythology%29

Pale slender legs uncurl slowly, delicate toes causing silver ripples along the water's surface. He walks along the crests of the waves, coat billowing on the briny air.

The sea opens up and the abyss yawns under him. Darkness snaps at the glowing figure but he bats it away as he slides through the shadows and emerges into the dim light of the Nightmare King's lair.

"Come now Pitchner, you're being far too melodramatic." The light shining from his skin scatters the Nightmares as his opposite materializes from the gloom.

"I'M being dramatic?" Pitch snarls, stalking around the globe, defying his visitor’s natural radiance by staring directly at him. "Why are you here Sin?" He hates those eyes; mirroring the pocked surface of the moon, surrounding pupils as dark as the vacuum that hung the old orb above the earth.

“You issued a challenge.” Long white sleeves add weight to the slight gesture upwards but Pitch’s eyes never leave that infuriating face, the pale lips curl in a smug smile that he wants to rip off, with his teeth. “I believe my Guardians were indeed ready. Your own forces seemed to lack…preparation.”

The insult added to his injuries is the final straw; the shadows convulse as Pitch lunges at his counterpart, the man dancing away, laughing brightly as his bare feet slap softly against the stone. That sound doesn’t belong here, it’s the clarion of his enemies, the trumpets of a palace that has long ago crumbled to dust…and it’s directed at HIM.

A gray hand closes around his nemesis’ ankle, nails biting into the luminescent skin as he pulls, unprepared for the swift kick to his temple from the other leg. The fight is short and brutal, at the end his coat has been ripped off and Sin’s gauzy pants are tattered shreds around his thighs.

“Looks like I win this round, ‘Old Friend’.” The title is a venomous hiss as he tangles his fingers in silvery hair that shimmers with the cold light. Those hated eyes beam defiance at him, graceful fingers rake manicured nails down his shoulder blades as the Man in the Moon arches up against him.

“Winning a battle hardly makes up for losing the war, ‘Friend’.” The knee to his groin is unexpected and Pitch’s stomach drops as searing white pain blinds him. He yanks viciously at the other man’s hair, taking pleasure in the pained grunt that escapes those maddening lips before they’re tumbling again, the hard stone battering them both.

Sin screams as sharp nails bury themselves in his shoulder, Pitch grinding his hips down between the milky thighs that spread wider to accommodate him. One leg curls around his waist as the being of light snarls, lunging up to meet him, pearly white incisors drawing sluggish black blood from the Nightmare King’s throat. And he wants his blood to dim that light, smear darkness across that incandescent skin.

It never does, it evaporates into dark mist as it touches Sin’s lips and tongue denying him the pleasure of tainting his enemy from the inside out. But the heat is building now; he can feel the reaction pressing against his thigh and his own interest sparks, hot and angry.

It’s an ancient dance they do, Light and Dark, neither quite gaining the upper hand. These personal battles are no different and Pitch growls, feeling the teeth still in his skin vibrate with it. The remains of their clothes are gone in moments and then, like the raging fight before, the tide turns once again.

There is an odd movement as his opponent goes still, then a sudden twist and push. The room spins. Flinging out his arms to catch himself is a mistake and Pitch finds himself on his back, straining against the cloth binding his wrists together as the Man in the Moon straddles his hips.

“You always focus on the details.” The boogey man hisses as a dainty tongue wets two glowing fingers, eyes that know far too much laugh at him even as Sin’s voice is soft, almost chastising.

“Losing sight of the big picture is dangerous, Pitchner.” How easy it is to judge when you’re at the top, looking down. How different it is from the bottom, feeling your very being slowly dissolve in the apathy of the current age. He braces for the humiliation, the searing too-good pain of penetration…but it never comes.

Silver eyes bleed to gold as he hears the soft breathy moan of his nemesis, feels him shudder and twitch. He can recall in perfect clarity the other times he’s heard that noise.

The glorious Dark Ages, as he presses the lithe legs up, sheathing himself in a body that looks cold and pure but is as hot and hungry as his own. The Moon claws at the ground, clenching tightly around him swearing as he ruts hard and deep.

After his fall, while he hisses and writhes as he’s filled to breaking those damned eyes staring at him. Watching him fall apart as thrust after thrust sends sparks of ecstasy through him and threatens to shatter his sanity completely.

This makes two in a row Sin has won. Pitch refuses to let him win this, but it’s difficult to concentrate on throwing him off and snapping the cloth on his wrists when the shorter being is making THOSE noises and Pitch can feel it as the silver haired male positions himself, pressing down just enough to tease his cock with the heat it could have…if Pitch could MOVE.

“Poor spirit, do you want this?” The pressure increases and he can almost feel the head of his dick sink inside before it’s pulled away. But it is only a detail, as Sin has so snidely pointed out, and one he can enjoy as he realizes the cloth binding his wrists is the remains of Sin’s coat. Easily torn when one knows how, and there is nothing about his enemy that he doesn’t know.

“Are you certain you’re asking the right spirit, ‘Manny’?” He hates that name, it’s far too playful. But he knows what it does to Sin. Sin, who tenses and growls, full of delicious fear that is fast followed by rage as he grabs Pitch by the throat.

“Don’t call me that.” But this is Pitch’s lair, and even with The Moon so close the darkness swells.

“Our sweet ‘Manny’, guiding light and beacon of hope.” Sin is cutting off his air now, but he’s got the restraints at the weak points. Cloth tears with a sound like skin peeling back from muscle as he lunges up, stands and slams the glowing man against the wall with enough force to glaze those star bright eyes. “For everyone but Frost of course.”

He presses his nose to Sin’s jaw, biting and sucking as bare feet curl against his calves. “You enjoyed it, watching him beg and plead. Sending him spiraling into a hopeless confusion only you could save him from.” Black bites hard, reveling in the way Sin moans for him; their erections pressing together as he grinds down. “Three hundred years you watched and did nothing. Wasn’t till I threatened your precious North that you got all huffy.” He can feel the pinpricks of Sin’s nails, raking down his back as he uses the wall to brace the both of them, his arms hooking under the Moon’s knees and lifting to present his prize.

“You’re just galled that you…missed your opportunity.” Poison sweet lips press against his ear as his rival whispers. “If only you’d found him sooner, if only you hadn’t been so prideful and hard headed. But oh dear, Jack’s mine now.” Pitch bares his teeth, taking the time to make sure he’s lined up properly before slamming into Sin’s pliant body. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t give the Old Man any time to adjust, he thrusts hard and deep, taking his anger out on the luminescent flesh with his claws and mouth, drinking in every pained sound as his nemesis writhes in pleasure.

“Perhaps, but you saw what I reduced your precious Guardians to. Did it frighten you when you realized how fragile they were?” He pounds Sin’s prostate and catches one delicate earlobe between his teeth, piercing it before pulling away to lap at the pearlescent blood. “When you knew that I could snap every brittle bone in North’s body?” He knew it had. That had been the sweetest moment of his near victory, crowding those pathetic wretches into a corner and feeling the Man in the Moon’s gaze beating against his back, desperate to interfere, but forbidden.

The noise that comes out of Sin’s mouth is feral and angry, Pitch revels in it. Here in this place his rival is no longer calm and condescending, he is just as flawed and furious. The rush of his orgasm is almost a surprise and he savages Sin’s shoulder as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

“It’s a shame your precious Guardians can’t see you like this…or at all really.” He enjoys the pain that flashes across ‘Manny’s’ face then finds one pale leg up near his neck, hips twisting, shimmering fingers splayed against the wall for leverage and suddenly he’s on his back; Sin’s cock rubbing against cheek before opalescent strands are coating his face and his hair.

“Well, even if they can’t see me, I’ve improved _your_ appearance considerably.” He can only lay there in shock as Sin stands, the light coalescing around his lithe form. Within seconds the Man in the Moon is clothed, as pristine and pure as when he’d arrived. Pitch wipes his face with a hiss but all that remains is Sin’s laughter as he floats up and out of the Nightmare King’s lair.

The sea parts once more, the gentle waves lifting the glowing being up to his throne and home as it begins to sink below the horizon. Slender legs curl as he sinks back into his place, bright eyes sliding shut as the sun rises.

 


End file.
